Unspoken
by Raquelita
Summary: They had never kissed. They had never touched - not really. But between them lay thousands of unspoken words. Dramione oneshot.


**A/N: I haven't written anything in ages, but Dramione was calling my name. Enjoy!**

"It wouldn't work anyway, you know."

"I know."

"I mean it. We're different in all the wrong ways. We'd kill each other within a month."

"I know."

"This is for the best."

"I know."

"Damn it, will you please say something other than _I know_?!"

Hermione stood inches away from Draco Malfoy, staring him down. She needed him to say something more than just two words. She needed him to justify her decision, even though she knew it was wrong to need him for anything. She needed to know that they agreed on this. That it was logical, and right, and crystal clear.

They would never be together. She was marrying Ron Weasley.

"What else do you want me to say, Hermione?" Draco asked quietly. He sat down on the couch in her flat, a silhouette in the lamplight coming in from the London streets. "Do you want me to say I'm happy for you? Fine. I'm happy for you. Do you want me to tell you that you're doing the right thing? Fine. You are."

"I want you to say it and mean it."

"Well then keep waiting, because I'll never mean it."

They were silent again. Hermione tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stared out the window, wishing things were easier. Then again, she mused, she didn't even remember what an easy life felt like. The war ended 7 years ago. Draco had rebuilt his reputation among most, working to rehabilitate those who had been in Azkaban. It was noble work, and he was admired for it. Even if he was still hated by some – Harry and Ron included.

Perhaps "hated" wasn't the right word. At least not in Harry's case. He was always polite to Draco at ministry events, although the two were hardly friendly. Ron, on the other hand, hated Draco with a passion. And so Hermione hadn't told them about the night she ran into Draco at the Three Broomsticks when she was visiting Neville and Luna at Hogwarts. She hadn't told them about how a simple hello turned into an all-night conversation, or about how their decision to keep in touch after that had blossomed into a relationship that Hermione valued above almost all others.

"We've never even been together," she whispered, sitting down next to him, "Not really. We're not losing anything, Draco. We've never had anything."

"Do you really believe what you're saying?"

"If I keep saying it, I hope I will."

Draco put his hand gently on her thigh, "I've never kissed you, Hermione," he said in a low voice, "I've never touched you – not really. I've never told you I loved you or told you I'm yours. But we've been together, you and I. We've said a thousand things with one look. I've written novels to you just by saying hello. You've told me you loved me a thousand times just by saying that you'll see me soon. Don't tell me that's not real."

Hermione felt tears form in her eyes, "It's a ghost," she said, "It's not real because it can't be real, Draco. Because I love Ron. And because you and I barely manage to be friends between our fighting. We come from different worlds, we want different things."

"We want each other. Isn't that enough?"

Hermione shook her head, "It's more complicated than that. You know it is."

She could feel Draco's eyes on her, but she couldn't face him.

"Hermione," he said, turning her face toward his, "Look at me. I know it's impossible. I know it just as much as you do. But I can't walk so easily. I'm not logical the way you are."

Hermione leaned into his hand, even as she told herself to move away.

"Kiss me," he said, "Just once. Just so we know."

"Draco, I can't."

He tangled his hand in her hair, "Please," he breathed.

Hermione searched his eyes, afraid of what she might find. There was passion, yes, and want. There was a need so strong that she wondered if it could be love. And she knew that her eyes reflected the same.

And so she kissed Draco Malfoy. She kissed him, and let him kiss her. And she knew that she would never regret it.


End file.
